


Swing of the Summer

by selenicsoulmates



Category: Star vs. The Forces Of Evil
Genre: "what about MORE than a lot?", F/M, Marco on Mewni, Post-Canon, That's this, a bunch of ways for me to get them to make out, it's literally just aged up fluff, just like, like "do you want starco to make out a lot?", this is my way of getting fluff out of my system before i die from this show
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-22 21:00:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9625139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/selenicsoulmates/pseuds/selenicsoulmates
Summary: He’s too tired for royal mingling and eating-but-actually-trying-really-hard-to-be-on-your-girlfriend’s-parents’-goodside sort of breakfasts. Maybe if he just lies there, they’ll think he caught some Mewnian disease and died. Star would probably kill him for that, though, or re-kill him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this on tumblr and fanfiction but got an account on here because it's cooler, which by association makes me cooler. 
> 
> This is post-canon Starco where they’re about 16 and have been dating for a couple of months. I plan on having a few of these one-shots kinda following the premise of Marco staying on Mewni for a summer to be with his girlfriend as she trains for her Queen-duties. Unoriginal, but I needed the fluff, and I think the same goes for a lot of you. Y'know...with season 2 and all.

A soft knock on his door slowly wakes him up from a dreamless sleep, where he’s surrounded by blankets of periwinkle blue. He groans, stretches his arms up towards the ceiling decorated with astronomical patterns until he feels a small pop, and allows his arms to fall onto his face. He rather not get up today.

“Mr. Diaz, the Butterfly’s invite you to attend breakfast this morning.”

He’s too tired for royal mingling and eating-but-actually-trying-really-hard-to-be-on-your-girlfriend’s-parents’-goodside sort of breakfasts. Maybe if he just lies there, they’ll think he caught some Mewnian disease and died. Star would probably kill him for that, though, or re-kill him.

It was day two in Mewni and yet he was already deprived of all energy and imagining his girlfriend would murder him. Figures.

“Mr. Diaz, are you –”

“Yes, Hargreaves, I’m up. Thank you.”

He hears a cough and a snappish murmur of “ _humans are hellish_ ” before Hargreaves walks away. Marco’s eyes roll, wondering how such a short, stubby man could be so rude. Weren’t they supposed to be jolly? Things really were backwards in this dimension.

Marco pulls back the covers, gets up, and rubs at his eyes, trying to adjust to the sunlight peering through the glass double doors of his room. He makes a mental note of asking his parents for blinds for that.

A red hoodie from the white wardrobe waits for him as he throws it on over a white t shirt, one of the 15 hoodies he’s brought along. Black pants also adorn the closet, and he picks from several, as well as the converse sitting below. He can only imagine the clothes Star’s mother will end up putting him in by the time this summer ends.

Marco likes the room a lot, though nothing compares to home. His suitcase and duffle bag sit in the corner by the doors that lead out to a patio overlooking the kingdom, he has a large desk and chair made of fine wood – though the wood is blue, for some reason. There’s a mirror that sits near the desk as well, resembling Star’s back on Earth, which he was told he can use to call whomever he wanted. He even has his own bathroom, which is a luxury considering he’s had to share one with someone who didn’t know where to put a hairdryer if you labeled it for them (he did).

He brushes his teeth and combs his hair, making sure to be presentable for his first meal with the family, though he notices he has a massive case of BedHead that morning. Things were so chaotic yesterday that a servant had brought dinner to his room, with Star rejoining her family for the first time in two years. He didn’t mind it much, and it gave him time to call his parents and fill them in.

Once dressed and ready, he headed out towards the dining room as instructed, mindful of his hair that simply wouldn’t get into place. Star’s room is further down his hallway, which he was able to pick up by the damaged patchwork on the wall across from it. Leftovers from playtimes turned to warnicorn training, most likely. Hargreave had brought him to his room yesterday afternoon, so he reverses each turn to make it to the main dining hall where the Butterflys were waiting. He’s gonna get lost in this castle by tomorrow, he knows it.

He’s making progress, though, because he can hear the sound of clattering plates in the kitchen, followed by a bellowing laugh that belonged to River. He follows the sounds and finds the family sitting at a large rectangular table, food decorating it unsparingly.

There, he sees Star’s chin sits in her hand as her other plays with the meal sitting on her plate, concentrating at the way her fork moves around a small pile of eggs. He imagines she’s designing warnicorns or butterflies with them, or perhaps a combination of the two, knowing her. Next to her was her mother, the current queen of Mewni, speaking animatedly about the upcoming weeks and the schedule she prepared for her daughter. He hears a groan when Queen Butterfly mentions ‘posture control.’

Before he even has a chance to walk out of the hallway and into the dining hall, Star catches his eye. Her boredom is immediately replaced with delight as she bounds out of her seat, cutting her mother off midsentence.

She nearly knocks him over, because dear lord, did she still have little-to-no grasp of her own strength. And energetic Star is even tenfold of that, as she catapults herself onto his frozen figure and plants a kiss right on his cheek.

He hasn’t seen her since around lunch yesterday, when he was stuck with unpacking his bags and she was dragged off to bond with her parents. They weren’t separated, though, before the Queen and King told them of how the summer was to play out while he spent those months with the royal family.

 _“While we are very glad to hear that you two have made progress with your relationship,”_ the Queen had said as Marco and Star stood at the bottom of the steps in the throne room.

_“I called it.”_

Moon sighed at her husband, who was currently giving the couple a thumbs up. _“Yes, River. Anyway, we both support you two and I personally am thankful Star managed to avoid her typical taste in romances. However, while I am giving Mr. Diaz here his own room within the castle, I ask the two of you to keep a minimum of your, what’s the phrase, that public-affection thing. River?”_

 _“It’s PDA, mom,”_ Star had said. _“And that’s not fair! Marco and I only just started dating and I wanted to –”_

_“You two can still socialize. But you are 16, and it’s inappropriate for a princess to be ‘PDA’-ing around the castle with her boyfriend. If Marco stays here, the canoodling is kept to a minimum. That is my deal.”_

_“But Mom –”_

Marco bows before the Queen, which silences Star. He is a guest, and while Star, born and raised with these people, can speak up as she pleases, it’s unsuitable for someone like him to be impeaching such a request. It was fair. Star would see reason sooner or later. Probably later, but regardless.

_“I appreciate you allowing me to stay in the castle, Your Highness, and I will keep anything to do with our relationship to a bare minimum here.”_

Either Star forgot about that deal or didn’t care, but Marco could see Moon Butterfly tap her nails into the table rhythmically, and it encourages him to keep his hands to his sides.

He feels his neck start to sweat uncomfortably. The Butterflys have a lot of magical powers in their line and sure, when the Queen of Mewni turns into a giant blue three-armed moth thing, it’s kinda scary. But nothing regarding the queen is more frightening then the glare she sends their way. _If you so much as smooch my daughter in front of me,_ it warns, _so help me, I will remove your fingers from your hands and shove them into your eyes._

He’s about to take her off of him when her mother impatiently calls out her name.

Star releases his hoodie and rolls her eyes. “Right, yeah, sorry Mommy.”

Star stomps back over to her seat and unpleasantly sags into it. The periwinkle blue of her dress crinkles as she folds in on herself, and Moon pulls her back up into a proper seated position without even blinking. Marco soon follows, taking the empty seat next to River across from the two women and is immediately greeted with a warm plate of scrambled eggs, ham, and a muffin that he assumes is made from corn.

“Marco, my boy, how was your first night in the castle?” The King of Mewni is far less intimidating than Star’s mother, for reasons ranging between knowing him more to his goofy behavior that Star most definitely acquired. Nonetheless, he appreciates the conversation.

“It was nice,” Marco gets out mid-bite. Another comforting fact about River is that he is much less custom to royal behavior, especially regarding table manners. Moon Butterfly must have given up on that instruction a long time ago. Marco scoops up another fork-full of eggs, and takes a nice big bite of the ham. “The view from my room’s really cool. Everything in it is, like, really blue though.”

“Those are our royal colors, my dear,” the Queen interrupts. She places her fork beside her plate and folds the napkin on top of it. “It’s been in the family for centuries now! Such a lovely color.” She goes into the story of their great, great, great, great grandmother who decided to make periwinkle blue the ‘Blue of the Butterflys.” Marco smirks as his girlfriend drags a gloved hand down her face.

King Butterfly leans closer to his ear. “Red seems to suit you better, my boy. I’m much more accustomed to browns myself.”

“Well, I’m done,” Star exclaims as she scrapes her chair against the floor and jumps out, going around to the opposite side of the table. Marco enjoys his first bite of Mewnian corn muffins as he feels Star grab the hand that sits on the table and yank him out of his seat. Before he even has a chance to protest, he feels her pull his arm back towards the hallway and out of the dining room.

“Thanks for breakfast guys it was amazing I’m gonna walk Marco to his room now okayseeyoulaterbye!”

Moon Butterfly pops out of her seat to reject, sighs, and sits back down. She cups a gloved hand around her mouth, and yells out as her daughter’s blonde hair whips around the corner. “Remember your etiquette class in the north library in a half hour, young lady!”

Star’s hasty walk quickly turns into a run as they pass the kitchen, her pulling on his sleeve to keep in pace as they pass unfamiliar hallways and empty staircases. East Wing, he thinks? That’s where the history-related stuff is, according to the King and Queen. He struggles to keep up.

“Star, where are we going?”

“Sh!”

She tugs on his arm and he nearly trips over as she checks down a deserted hallway, where at least a dozen statues of what he assumes are soldiers lie parallel to one another, a decorated rug lying between them. Two windows on opposite ends of the hallway allow the Mewnian sunlight to brighten it, shining against the glass candleholders that sit high up in between each structured piece of limestone. She pulls him down the empty hallway in between two statues, leaving enough room for the two of them.

Before he could even regain his balance, her lips were on his. Star’s hands reach behind his neck to pull him closer to her, further down until she lets out a satisfied hum and her arms relax atop his shoulders.

“Hi,” a little breathless, she laughs at Marco’s dazed expression – cheeks as red as the hoodie he’s wearing.

“Not that I’m complaining, but what was that?”

“Well, I haven’t seen you since yesterday,” her hands drag down to his jacket to play with the zipper; it must be one of his older hoodies, since the silver looks dulled and ready to fall off. “Mom’s got me doing all sorts of royal stuff and it’s so _boring_.”

Marco takes both of her hands in his. “You are a princess, Star. Kinda comes with the package.”

“I’m not asking for much. Just like…a couple of hours alone with my boyfriend.” She lifts her heels off the marbled floor to press a kiss to the mole that sits under his right eye. Star continues her own small constellation of kisses downward until she touches the corner of his mouth. “Doesn’t that sound good?”

“You have etiquette class at 10, and I have to finish my summer work.” He doesn’t know how he manages common sense, when she’s so close and wants so much from him. He wants it, too. But he also doesn’t want to feel the wrath of Queen Butterfly if she ever found them canoodling in the East Wing of what was considered sacred grounds.

She pouts. “Can’t you be irresponsible for, like, seven seconds?”

“If I did that, who’d be the rational one?”

“No one,” she rolls her eyes. “I don’t know. I just wanna spend time with you.”

“We’ll be hanging out tomorrow at the royal table read.”

She crosses her arms and huffs. “Yeah, and you won’t even let me hold your hand as we sit there.”

“You’re over-exaggerating.”

“Am I?” Star challenges. She feigns a bow and deepens her voice, dragging out words that made her voice sound practically medieval. “ _I will keep anything to do with dating your daughter to a bare minimum._ ”

“I didn’t talk like that, Star.”

“I know! But still,” she pulls apart his own crossed arms to hold his hands. “I have to suffer through queen duties this summer! I thought bringing you here would lessen the blow a bit, but now Mom’s gotta ruin it with her stuck-up queen-ie rules.” Star deflates more, looking down at their feet as she rocks back and forth on her heels. “I know this is stupid, but I don’t want our first summer together to go to waste just because I’m a princess.”

He doesn’t know how his voice always says her name in such a soothing manner in moments like this, but he always manages to catch her attention when he does it.

The longing look she gives him sends him reeling though, and the rationalizing speech he had written in the back of his mind gets swallowed down his throat.

He understands. He feels the same way, because she’s here for however-many more minutes until she’s dragged off to lessons and more lessons. He doesn’t break promises, however, especially to someone like Moon Butterfly. But that look she gives to him, more than just _I miss you_ , or _I want you_ , or some other cheesy line from the soap operas they watched on Thursday nights. It’s _I need my best friend with me to get through this._ It’s _I need **you** with me._

Marco is a safe kid. He obeys the rules. He follows them. But with Star, sometimes it’s okay for rules to be broken. Encouraged, even.  

So he kisses her, right there under the sunlight next to these weird-looking statues she’s dragged them next to.

It’s much calmer this time - Star planting her toes into the floor to press back into him. He likes to revel in the fact that he’s much taller than her, a benefit that always ends up in his favor when he initiates any kissing sessions, or even hugs. While she’s all for a loss in control - go-go-go sorts of sessions, with hands gripping hair and lungs losing air, he tends to go slow, steady, and soft. He’s missed out on chances to kiss this girl for a while, so he likes to think of times like these as making up for it.

“Tonight,” he says when he pulls away and rests his forehead against her own.

“What?”

“We’ll hang out tonight in my room, after the night-time guards get situated away from our rooms. I brought some DVD’s with me, so we can watch a movie on my laptop and, y’know,” he chuckles lightly, “ _socialize_.”

He sees that twinkle in her eyes, her face lighting up with excitement, “Will you make nachos?”

“We’ll sneak into the kitchen while everyone’s getting ready for bed,” Star’s hands grip his as she bounds up and down. “I’ve never made corn chips from scratch, so this should be fun.”

Squealing, she wraps her arms around him tight enough for him to lose a breath or two of air, before he hugs her back and laughs along with her. Star nuzzles into the crook of his shoulder with a sigh. “I can’t wait.” He swears he hears her murmur a thank you into the crevice of his hoodie.

Marco brings her face towards his own and kisses her once more for good measure. “So tonight?”

“It’s a date.”


End file.
